To Be Worthy
by lexie2
Summary: Betrayed by his latest master and mocked by the cruel hand of destiny, Sir Guy of Gisborne returns to Nottingham twenty years after his banishment determined to reclaim the life which should have been his. Alternate Series 1.
1. Chapter 1

**SUMMARY:** Betrayed by his latest master and mocked by the cruel hand of destiny, Sir Guy of Gisborne returns to Nottingham twenty years after his banishment determined to reclaim the life which should have been his.

**A/N: ** Set in an alternate Series 1 where Guy has never met Vasey before his arrival in Nottingham, this fic will explore what impact an earlier acquaintance with Marian might have had on Guy's life and ultimate fate.

**AUTHOR: **lexie aka lillianschild

**RATING:** PG-13/R (probably in later chapters)

**PAIRING:** Guy/Marian

**GENRE:** Romance

**DISCLAIMER:** Tiger Aspect Productions and the BBC are free to claim whatever they own of this piece, except Guy's thoughts and and my words, which are ours to keep. lol

**TO BE WORTHY**

CHAPTER I

NOTTINGHAM CASTLE- 1192

Tall, long-limbed and broad-shouldered, the saturnine and handsome knight intrigued her. She'd never seen him before, but his powerful aura was felt beyond the shadows cast by the pillars of the hall of Nottingham Castle- her home as the daughter of the county Sheriff, Sir Edward of Knighton- and tapped a cord in her which had been dormant for twenty-one years. Nobody, not even her short-lived betrothed Robin, had ever stirred her this way.

His aloofness belied the intensity of a pair of striking blue-grey eyes which she suspected were all- seeing behind those long sooty eyelashes. Wearing his shoulder-length coal black hair loose and dressed in black leather from head to toe, this avenging angel was the most sinfully attractive male she'd ever set eyes on. There was a decisive air of danger attached to his persona, even though she could tell he wasn't a great or powerful nobleman; his clothes were of good quality but had seen better days, and he was altogether alone, having no squire or page on attendance.

Sitting at the high table, Marian quickly averted her eyes when she saw him glance her way and turned towards her father, Sir Edward of Knighton. Her dad's frailty was a constant source of anxiety during her waking hours, and his growing despondency kept her awake at night. He sat listless at the head of the table, staring off into space, both his trencher and glass untouched. It appeared not even hosting the spring tournament would rally him this time.

"Once again you shine as the lady of Nottingham Castle," Lord Harold of Winchester murmured close to her ear, sending a cold shudder down her spine.

Her father's old friend and vanquished rival for her late mother's affections couldn't disguise the lustful gleam in his eyes or the palpable greed which transpired when he regarded everything of Edward's he coveted.

"Edward must be very proud of his daughter," he added, pressing an unwelcome kiss on her hand, his gaze trained on the swell of her creamy breasts.

"I do my best to honour him," she replied with a small smile, hating the courtly games destiny had her play and fighting the urge to slap him in the face for every lecherous look and innuendo she had had to endure since his arrival at the castle. She could feel the coppery taste in her mouth after biting her tongue, knowing how precarious her family's position had become and how dangerous alienating Winchester was.

"As your husband I'd see Sir Edward's well cared for," he continued, focusing on her mouth as she struggled to swallow down a morsel of venison and keep her nausea in check. Marian was still a maid, but running a household entailed having a closer relationship with the servants and most of them- especially the women- were outspoken. She'd heard enough disturbing tales about Winchester and his maidservants to know what kind of a husband he'd make. Sitting this close to him was enough to wish herself at Kirklees Abbey.

Hiding her disgust she let her gaze wander past the trestle tables set up in the hall to where the silent knight was. Once again she wondered who he was. Judging by his lithe body and strong yet graceful limbs, he was a man used to riding and fighting. He was much older than the other knights in the room, who were closer to her in age, and should have either earned his own estate or found a position serving a lord. Marian couldn't help but envy his freedom; he was free to go wherever he pleased and do as he wished without the constraints imposed by duty and gender. If only she'd been born a man, she would tell Winchester to go to the devil and her father would have the heir her mother's early passing had denied him.

"My lady, I've come today hoping to converse with you, but I'm afraid you're determined to ignore me," said Winchester silkily, grabbing her right hand.

"I'm trying to find Meg. The hall's really crowded today."

"She seems to be having a very good time," he nodded towards the sixteen-year old who, wearing her finest clothes and her wavy red hair loose, observed the young knights, feigning her usual disinterest towards the opposite sex.

"She's growing into a beautiful woman. Not as fetching as her cousin," he added with a lewd glint in his eye," but lovely just the same. I wager it won't take long for her hand to be requested in marriage by several eager suitors. It wouldn't do for the youngest girl in the household to get married first, don't you think? Your father seems to agree it's high time his eldest got her own home to run."

Marian shuddered at the thought of tying the knot with her mother's former suitor, repelled by the idea of those hands and lips touching her. Her skin crawled thinking of the indignities he might submit her to, given to a life of debauchery as he was. And yet, having been deserted by Robin in favour of King Richard's holy quest, she'd been left alone to protect her family. Marian loathed Winchester, but was aware of her responsibilities towards her frail and melancholy father and also Meg, who had become more of an adoptive sister than cousin the moment she came to live with them when her parents died. If Winchester was the only path open before her, Marian would do what was required of any dutiful daughter.

Taking her goblet to her lips, she surreptitiously glanced across the room. The stranger was now leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, wearing an amused crooked smile as he observed a curvaceous maidservant joke and laugh with the young knights at the table nearby.

Marian wondered what he'd be like with a woman. For all his aloofness, he struck her as a passionate man. Would that make him selfish and demanding as a lover? Or would he be attentive and caring, possessive and yet thoughtful of giving as much as deriving pleasure from his partner?

Her unmaidenly thoughts made her blush and, at that precise moment, the knight looked at the high table and their gazes locked. This time she trembled for an entirely different reason. She was rooted to the spot and, at the same time, wished she could run away from those eyes which seemed to be able to see into her lonely and hopeless heart.

She tore her gaze from him, telling herself it wasn't possible for a complete stranger, a man she hadn't exchanged even the most basic pleasantries with, to understand what was going on under her carefully-studied façade.

"My Lady..."

"Excuse me, my lord, it's getting late and I've yet to make preparations for Lord Vasey's arrival," she told Winchester abruptly, getting to her feet.

"I wish you'd honour me with your presence a little longer, but if you must go..." the earl replied, a clear note of annoyance in his voice.

Guy watched the lady press a kiss on Sir Edward's cheek and then leave the hall in a hurry. There was no doubt in the knight's mind that Lady Marian loved her frail father as deeply as she hated the man who'd been sitting between them, a man whose place of honour suggested an imminent betrothal.

Guy wondered if Winchester was really aware of the lady's indomitable nature. The young woman didn't seem the kind to be easily swayed once she'd made up her mind. A character trait Guy had learnt to recognise, having experienced it first-hand with his own estranged little sister, Isabella. And yet that independence of thought which used to annoy him in his own flesh and blood, he found alluring in Lady Marian. Maybe Winchester had seen what he had and yearned for the challenge, just as he would; he certainly couldn't find fault in the other man's choice of partner. She took his breath away.

The raucous crowd sitting a few steps away interrupted his musings. Not for the first time did he envy the younger knights' carefree attitude, that freedom to enjoy life to its full. Guy's journey had been a constant struggle ever since his parents' death in the fire and his forced exile in Normandy. Fate had made of him a knight in shining armour in the eyes of his little sister Bella, a champion who could slay all dragons. He wondered what she'd think of him now; God knew he found it hard to see himself as anyone's knight. He'd done his best to make his dad proud, to live up to the Gisborne heritage; his horsemanship and the mastery of the sword had earned Guy a knighthood and a place in the ranks of the king's army just like his father had before him. He should have known better than to trust a Plantagenet though; Henry and Richard might have been enemies but both had betrayed the Gisborne loyalty in the end.

Despite the life of hunger and destitution Guy and Isabella had been condemned to as children, he missed those days of old if only for the knowledge that there was someone who had faith in him and saw him as worthy. No, unlike the boisterous young men at the table, he wasn't in Nottingham merely for sport; he was there to face his own personal demons and win this tournament. His dreams of regaining the lands which were his by birthright had suffered a setback in the Holy Land, a fact which still irked him for its injustice. And yet, his fallout with the Lionheart could be considered serendipitous after all for if Guy hadn't landed in Southampton when he did, he wouldn't have learnt of this tournament in time to sign in. He'd stayed away far too long. Nottingham owed him and he was determined to collect.

Once more the knight's eyes strayed to the high table. Winchester was still sitting next to Sir Edward and, judging by the hungry looks Lord Harold gave to the teenage red-haired Guy believed to be related to the frail Sheriff, the lecher wouldn't mind having both Knighton women warm his bed. Gisborne wondered if Lady Marian's father was actually aware of the snake he was harbouring in his nest. Judging by the sheriff's absent look and melancholy demeanour, he was oblivious of the world around him.

Winchester was a vain man and the knight he sponsored at the tournament was good, but Guy was experienced and Stormbringer, having seen battle, was a far superior mount. Suddenly the idea of winning acquired an extra significance. Maybe he could be once again that chivalrous protector Ghislaine would have been proud of. Being worthy in the eyes of two pure ladies might be the reprieve his battered soul had been yearning for. Seeing Winchester defeated and humiliated even through a proxy would be a bonus.

"More wine, sir knight?" asked a voluptuous maidservant, approaching Guy with a seductive sway of her hips.

"I'd rather keep my wits sharp. As tempting as other things offered might be, I need to save my energy for the trials on the field," he grinned, eying the ample bosom on display.

"Pity. I could make it worth your while," she replied with a lewd gleam in her eye.

"I've no doubt you're going to make a young knight very happy tonight," he smiled before deciding to pump her for information. "What can you tell me about the man sitting next to the earl of Knighton?"

"Lord Winchester? His late wife left him the estate which borders Knighton and he's been friends with the Sheriff since their youth. Our master owes him a great deal. His duties as a sheriff leave him very little time to see to his property and, as much as Lady Marian's loved by the populace, she isn't a man. Lord Winchester took on the stewardship of Knighton almost a decade ago and helped relieve the earl of the extra burden."

Not only did the disgusting lecher salivate after Marian of Knighton the woman, he coveted the fortune that he'd obtain by marrying her. Despite being ambitious and having a lot more to gain than Winchester by choosing a rich and beautiful bride such as Lady Marian, Sir Guy would never impose his amorous attentions upon an unwilling woman. Gisborne wasn't a man above reproach, but his ambition hadn't yet smother his sense of honour and the respect for the opposite sex that Ghislaine had instilled in him as a young boy. There were other ways to secure himself a future and the stability necessary to even consider wooing a bride of rank with whom to raise a family and restore the proud lineage of his ancestors.

"Ten years is a long time."

"Lord Harold's a very patient man when he sees something he wants."

"Is he?" he cocked an eyebrow.

"He has to be. Ever since Robin of Locksley broke up their engagement to join King Richard's crusade, my lady's lived only for her father. So far she's managed to deflect Winchester's attentions, but... "

Huntingdon? It had to be. He knew of only one Robin of Locksley and the smug earl had played a fundamental role in both Guy's departure from and return to Nottingham.

Lady Marian, the young woman who'd captured Guy's heart the minute he set foot in the castle, had been once betrothed to his enemy. It seemed fate was constantly out to mock the landless knight.

"What's wrong with Sir Edward?" he asked the maidservant, hoping his face hadn't betrayed the impact her words had had on him.

"Just grief. He's never been able to overcome Lady Kate's death. He loves his daughter dearly, but the fact that she resembles her dead mother more each passing day doesn't help."

Guy wondered if he'd ever be able to love so deeply and forever, to the point of being unable to live on without his chosen partner. His rare and inconsequential trysts had only helped scratch a natural itch, but no one so far had ever stirred him enough to envision having a life and raising a family together, no one until Lady Marian. The irony of fate wasn't lost on him. At thirty-five he was risking losing his heart for the first time to a woman he'd no right to love.

"Hey, Gisborne! You've monopolised the wench long enough, and we all know you won't do anything about it."

"Yeah, come here, luv. Don't waste your time with Sir Lackland," shouted one of the youngest knights with a marked drunken slur accompanied by the sniggers of the other guests.

Guy clenched his fists and glared at the men sitting around the table. It wasn't the first time he'd heard the nickname used in his presence, although they had never called him that in his face before. Cooling his temper was becoming a true test of endurance, but answering back or punching a few smug faces would only jeopardise his participation in the tournament and everything it entailed- from the money he could win to the chance to meet a prospective new employer.

* * *

Outside the night air was cool. Away from the bragging youths, he surveyed the terrain where the tournament would take place the following morning. Although he trusted his horse in a way he hadn't managed to trust anyone since his childhood, he always took the precaution of studying the grounds to minimise the risk of injuries for both his and his mount's sake. Next came a visit to the stables and a careful inspection of the equipment in the early morning to make sure everything was as it should be; for all their code of honour knights were only human, and foul play in competitions wasn't unheard of.

Having brushed Stormbringer and supplemented his meal with a bucket of oats, Guy locked its stall and, bidding his destrier goodnight, headed to the bailey. Let his haughty rivals drink and wench on the eve of the melee- he'd made that mistake once in his twenties and almost paid it with his life- Guy would make it an early night to get up refreshed and ready to collect his ransom.

As he climbed up the stairs leading from the bailey, he spotted the saucy maidservant who'd given him the eye scanning the corridor, no doubt in search of someone. A sixth sense told him he was the prey, so he shrunk back into a shadowed alcove. It was on occasions such as these when he questioned whether his decision to change wardrobe had been wise. Black leather was supposed to provide him with a protective dangerous aura against potential enemies and carnal distractions, but for some reason it seemed not to be having the desired deterring effect on the opposite sex, quite the contrary in fact. It was baffling and, at times, made him feel awkward and out of his depth around the fair sex, especially amongst those who- had his situation been any different- he'd have considered his equals and therefore, marriage material. Although the maidservant wasn't such a girl, he wasn't in the mood for an inconsequential tryst with her either tonight or in the foreseeable future.

There was only one woman who'd managed to stir his until-then anaesthetised heart, Lady Marian, the beautiful maiden whose angelic form had bewitched him and whose passionate soul he knew he'd no right to covet. He might never have a chance with Sir Edward's daughter. but the mere thought of a night of debauchery with the curvaceous servant under the same roof where Lady Marian would be sleeping made him feel even more unworthy. There was no use dreaming with the impossible; at least, until he could secure himself a future.

Sliding the latch of the door behind him, Guy made use of his feline stealth and slipped away.


	2. Chapter 2

**SUMMARY:** Betrayed by his latest master and mocked by the cruel hand of destiny, Sir Guy of Gisborne returns to Nottingham twenty years after his banishment determined to reclaim the life which should have been his.

**AUTHOR: **Lexie aka lillianschild

**RATING:** PG-13/R (possibly in later chapters)

**FANDOM:** Robin Hood

**PAIRING:** Guy/Marian

**GENRE: **Romance

**Disclaimer: **Tiger Aspect Productions and the BBC are free to claim whatever they own of this piece, except Guy's thoughts and my words which are ours to keep. lol.

**A/N:** Set in an alternate Series 1 where Guy has never met Vasey before his arrival in Nottingham, this fic will explore what impact an earlier acquaintance with Marian might have had on Guy's life and ultimate fate.

**CHAPTER II**

Avoiding Winchester after dinner, Marian devoted herself to getting a chamber ready for Lord Vasey and, once she got word Sir Edward had left the hall, climbed up to her father's room to help the Lord of Knighton to bed.

"I'm sorry to be such a burden to you both," he mumbled as his daughter tucked him in. "Sometimes I think you'd be better off if I were no more."

"Please, don't say that, Father. The people of Nottingham need you. Meg and I need you, too. Things will look better in the morning. You'll see," she comforted him, squeezing his hand. "Now... what are you going to wear for the tournament tomorrow? Maybe the tunic that we gave you for Christmas... It'd match perfectly with the cloak King Richard sent you as a present for your services to the Crown."

"You pick what you think best, dear."

It was hard to keep a cheerful countenance when she saw her dad so listless. There was so little left of the invincible man who used to love carrying her on his shoulders as a girl and dote on her as if he'd have the male heir he'd been denied. Long before her first love, he'd been the only man in her universe, the one who'd taught her how to fight, ride and knock an arrow despite her mother's constant nagging. It was so heartbreaking seeing him deteriorate in front of her eyes; not even being virtually jilted at the altar by Robin, whom everybody'd expected her to end up with since her childhood, had hurt so much.

"Father, I know you'd rather stay in your quarters tomorrow... but you're aware that Prince John has eyes and ears everywhere. He's counting on any sign of weakness from his brother's allies to realise his ambitions. Don't let him have his way. The last thing that Nottingham needs is for one of his cronies to take your place. You know as well as I do he has no love for King Richard, and I'm afraid we three won't be the only ones to pay the consequences; it's the populace who always does."

"My lovely and wilful daughter... you make me so proud. Promise me you'll be careful, Marian..."

"Father..."

"God only knows when the king'll come home, and I'm not sure I'll live long enough to protect you if John manages to get the support he needs to seize the throne. Sometimes I wish I'd paid heed to your mother's warnings. You'd be married by now and I'd be able to die in peace knowing you were safe."

"I can take care of myself and Meg. I don't need..."

"Stubborn as my Kate," he chuckled."That foolish boy was never the one. I knew from the very first day I clasped eyes on him he was too full of himself to ever put his hunger for praise and glory aside for any woman. As much as it hurt to see you suffer back then, I'm glad you were spared the bitterness of a marriage to a man who'd have never put you first. I wish for you what I had with your mother..."

Marian felt her eyes well up with tears. She'd once had that very dream, but she loved her father too much to tell him he'd made its realisation impossible. And, unless a miracle came her way, duty was the only path open before her. Unbearable as the thought was, she'd be Lady Winchester before the summer was out.

* * *

Having ascertained her father was resting safely in the arms of Morpheus, Marian pressed a soft kiss on his forehead and slipped out of his chamber.

The muffled sounds of laughter told her she should stay away from the hall for there were still those who hadn't retired to bed, and Winchester might be amongst them. Making her way along a side corridor she walked in the direction of the stables to see to her favourite mare, which was still heavy with its unborn offspring.

It had been a trying day in more ways than one, and she longed for the quietude of her room, where she could rest her weary bones and wake up refreshed to face the busy hours ahead. As she crossed the rose garden, which had been Lady Kate's pride and joy, she removed the bejewelled pin that held her hair up. Massaging her scalp and neck to relieve the kinks which had built up as a result of her stressful day she let her auburn tresses tumble down.

"Milady?"

She blanched at the unexpected sound of a deep chocolatey voice, wondering who had witnessed her unladylike behaviour. Whoever it was would get a surprise if he so much as made a move mistaking her for one of those young women of noble blood who, either single or married, offered themselves for free in the shadows while pretending to be pious in the light.

"Milady, I don't wish to cause you any harm," said the male voice with a distinctly northern accent.

"If you have nothing to hide, then step forward and let me see your face," she commanded with a tone of confidence which belied the confusing flutter in her chest. There was something about that voice that made her skin tingle and did odd things to her stomach. She'd experienced that very same electrifying spark earlier that night, and her heart knew even before he materialised in front of her that the man in the shadows was the handsome stranger from the hall.

"Excuse my presumptuousness, milady. I only wanted to thank you for a warm meal and your generous hospitality," he replied, coming closer with a gracefulness that reminded her of the stealth shown by felines when circling a prey.

Looking at him from across a room had stirred her in some unfathomable way, but standing in the moonlight just an armful away from the mysterious knight with raven hair and piercing blue-grey eyes robbed her of every sensible thought. His face was all angles and his nose would have been considered disproportionately large in any other man, and yet she'd never met any specimen of the opposite sex in her twenty-one years who looked more devastatingly handsome or more mesmerizing even in stillness.

Marian knew she had to say something fast before being caught staring like a besotted fool. She was the lady of the castle and as such was expected to show decorum and impeccable manners.

"You're one of the Sheriff's guests for the length of the tournament, I did no more than what's expected of me as chatelaine."

"Be that as it may, I'm grateful for your solicitousness. I've been around a while and have learnt never to take a thoughtful gesture for granted. I've grown used to sleeping under the stars and partaking of a simple meal with my mount... It comes with the territory."

"Well, I'm glad then you're sleeping in a proper bed tonight with a fire to keep you warm."

He smiled and a sudden warmth, unfamiliar and yet strangely welcome, suffused her.

Guy thought Sir Edward's only daughter was even lovelier illuminated by the moonlight. The alabaster of her skin turned a delightful red when he made his presence known, driven from the dark refuge of the shadows by her siren call. The temptation to be closer to her orbit, enveloped in the delicate chamomile-scented aura of her feminine form was too hard to resist.

He knew it wasn't wise, that he was breaking several basic propriety rules and that he might be compromising her virtue and good name by addressing her a few simple words when she was unchaperoned, but the very fact nobody was there to witness the exchange had emboldened him. Although he might be denied the blessing of the love of a woman such as her, he would at least treasure the memory of a chaste encounter with only the moonlight for company.

As intoxicating as being in the close proximity of the mysterious knight was, Marian knew she wasn't supposed to be alone with him. She wondered if God had decided to put temptation on her way to test her, aware as He must be of her tendency to rebel against the rules in her eagerness to assert the independence men had denied her sex.

"Please, wait" he beseeched her. "I'm trying to avoid someone... a woman who waited on the young knights' table tonight. I don't know her name, but she seems to be persistent," he said with a hint of awkwardness in his demeanour that she found confusing in a man whose devastatingly handsome presence was the epitome of dangerous masculinity.

A sudden twinge of envy seized her and, forgetting she was meant to be the demure Sheriff of Nottingham's daughter, she blurted out: "Won't she be heartbroken to discover you're hiding from her?"

"I don't think so. There are younger and more accommodating fish in the pond."

She frowned. "You speak of yourself as if you were too old."

"Age is more than the sum total of one's years. I think you know that better than anyone, Lady Marian."

She did. There were days when she felt a lot older than her twenty-first springs.

She wondered what he'd have done if she were the one pursuing him. Would he have hidden as well? Once again a peculiar warmth coursed through her body as if his strong arms were holding her and his long fingers were brushing her skin and raising goose pimples on their journey… . Her lips tingled and parted in anticipation of his passionate though imaginary kiss….

What was it about this man that made her forget who she was and feel things without even touching her she'd never experienced in the arms of her former betrothed?

There was a speculative gleam in his eyes that heightened the red in her cheeks. Could it be he'd recognised the telltale signs of her body showing how he was affecting her? She was a lady and a maid; she should be angry, not…curious.

The voice of her conscience told her to leave.

"Good evening, Sir…?"

"Sir Guy of Gisborne."

"Good luck tomorrow, Sir Guy." she wished him, turning to leave.

"Haven't you ever heard my name?"

"Should I have?" she asked, her curiosity revived.

"If you haven't, you will soon enough. Although I'm afraid it won't be the whole truth." he replied, an indefinable emotion clouding his eyes.

"I consider myself a good judge of character and not given to sentence any man without first-hand proof of his guilt. Let him who is without _sin_ cast the _first stone. Isn't that what _Our Lord's taught us?"

His deep voice softened. "Not everyone has such a charitable heart as yours, milady."

Marian had always loved riddles and her curiosity was certainly piqued. But there was more than that; she felt as if she'd been suddenly awoken from a lethargic spell, as if she were really alive for the first time.

Who was this man, this knight whose proud presence made her forget the world didn't regard their stations as equal? Sir Guy of Gisborne was unquestionably more attractive to her than Winchester, but his good looks weren't proof of his being a better person. Perhaps he was just better at pretending.

Robin used to say her sympathetic heart would be her doom one day. "We're all sinners, Sir Guy. Not even I am worthy of being put on a pedestal. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have many things to see to. "

"Of course," he inclined his head. "It must be a heavy burden for one so young."

The tone of concern in his voice threatened to weaken her resolve, but the suspicion that he might have the same designs as Winchester strengthened her. "We all have burdens to bear. God tests us all."

"In more ways than one," he agreed, suggesting he'd experienced the heavy burden of duty and responsibility in the flesh. Maybe they weren't so different after all.

"Have you been tested?"

Guy looked at the pure white of a single rose in the garden, surrounded by the deep crimson of its thorny counterparts, and felt a tightening in his chest. He wished he could open up, share with her the life-long burden which had threatened to crush him at times. But his time of trial was far from over, and he had no right to taint a soul of which she wished he could be deserving.

The fleeting pain she saw reflected in his countenance roused her sympathy and, although she knew instinctively he wouldn't accept her pity, she couldn't help but voice her feelings."I'm sorry..." she murmured, unable to rid herself of that deep sense of connection she'd experienced from the very first moment.

"Good night, my lady," he bid her, taking her hand in his and brushing his warm lips softly over the rise of her knuckles.

An electric current ran up her arm and warmth radiated to her breast, her face and that hidden uncharted place, which had unexpectedly become more than the living proof of her maidenly condition.

The mere feather-like touch of his lips had left her overwhelmed, warm all over and strangely dissatisfied. She wondered what it'd feel like to be actually kissed by those lips on the mouth... or to have them trace her feminine curves.

The unmaidenly thought, brought on by the blue-grey-eyed stranger with a shy smile, a virile body and a deep, chocolatey voice, turned Marian into a mass of confusion. Never before had risk and danger looked more appealing nor had she ever felt more envious of that maidservant whose station in life didn't shackle her with the chains of duty and honour.

At that moment she feared Sir Guy more than she'd ever feared Lord Winchester. And so she turned and fled.


	3. Chapter 3

**SUMMARY:** Betrayed by his latest master and mocked by the cruel hand of destiny, Sir Guy of Gisborne returns to Nottingham twenty years after his banishment determined to reclaim the life which should have been his.

**AUTHOR:** Lexie aka lillianschild

**RATING: **PG-13/R (probably in later chapters)

**FANDOM:** Robin Hood

**PAIRING:** Guy/Marian

**GENRE: **Romance

**Disclaimer:** Tiger Aspect Productions and the BBC are free to claim whatever they own of this piece, except Guy's thoughts and my words which are ours to keep. lol.

**A/N:** Set in an alternate Series 1 where Guy has never met Vasey before his arrival in Nottingham, this fic will explore what impact an earlier acquaintance with Marian might have had on Guy's life and ultimate fate.

**CHAPTER III**

"Well?"

"His name's Guy," Allan A Dale informed Winchester.

"Guy?" the older man echoed.

"Sir Guy of Gisborne. His father was a northener and a knight in King Henry's army, and his mother was a Norman."

"Anything else?"

"Aye, my lord. Sir Guy was in the Holy Land with King Richard."

"Oh, one of those! And how come he's here and not fighting the infidel? "

"It seems he fell from grace in the eyes of the King, who used to hold him in very good regard."

"So he was cast out of his retinue and sent back to England? Did you find out anything about the nature of the quarrel?"

"Apparently, he questioned some of Richard's orders and... he was involved in a fight with another knight, one of the King's favourites, the Earl of Huntingdon."

"He dared question good old Richard and was in a row with Lady Marian's old fiance, you said? Interesting. It's a miracle he's still got his head attached to his shoulders."

"There's more, my lord. Gisborne's no more. There's a younger sister, but when their parents died the late King Henry gave the lands of Gisborne to the Earl of Huntingdon."

"Ah. Nothing like a long-standing grudge to forget one's knightly oaths," he smiled wolfishly. "Disgraced and landless. So that's why he seemed to be so interested in me tonight. No doubt he's counting on capturing the richest man's representative on the field tomorrow. How are things progressing with young Meg?"

"Slow, but I haven't lost my faith yet."

"Good. Good. A victory in the squires' melee might help you."

Winchester too needed his knight to win. Hopefully, a victory in the tournament would improve things with Marian. "How good is Sir Guy on the field?"

"Outstanding."

"Do you mean he's never lost?"

"Mm... rarely, my lord."

Winchester's man was the best in the shire and one he'd considered unbeatable until then. Losing wasn't an option after coming this far in the game.

"My lord?" asked Allan bringing his master out of his reverie.

"Yes?"

"You told me to keep an eye on Lady Marian... Well, I shadowed her tonight. After she left the hall, she busied herself with the arrangements for Lord Vasey's arrival, and then she went to Sir Edward's chamber."

"Nothing out of the ordinary."

"No... but she didn't retire immediately. She had a walk in the garden instead... and she had company."

Winchester slammed the goblet whose contents he'd been about to drink, making the young squire jump. "Who else was in the garden?"

"Sir Guy, my lord."

"Are you sure it was him you saw?"

"He walked past me, and you've got to admit he cuts an unforgettable figure," smiled the Squire ruefully.

"You'd better wipe that smile off your face, Allan. Don't you forget I'm not only the one who can make you but crush you as well. Tell me he didn't see you."

"Of course, he didn't. You charged me with the task because of my stealth, right?"

Lady Kate of Knighton's one-time-suitor was old enough to know women were not to be trusted around men such as Guy of Gisborne. Although the outcast northener might have no real title and not even a penny in his coffers, he had good looks, youth and virility; Winchester had no doubt the younger man had seduced a good number of women in his lifetime. Things had been going so smoothly for Winchester since Huntingdon's desertion; he hadn't counted on a rival for Marian's hand and dowry, particularly not one he suspected had the necessary means and skills to fight this battle and win it.

If this dishonoured nobody wanted Marian, he was as good as dead. Lord Winchester hadn't spent so many years planning and scheming to marry his former fiance's daughter just to see his dreams crushed by an impoverished knight. He'd been extremely patient with Marian and more than once had thought he should have bedded her and leave her no choice but to become Lady Winchester, and now no upstart was going to steal from him the privilege of showing the Lady who was master.

"The encounter was brief, my lord. And Lady Marian would never do anything unseemly."

"Yes, Lady Marian is above reproach," stated Winchester, his emotions once more under control."The Northerner, however, is a different matter altogether, which means someone must show him his place."

* * *

"Why is it that men get to have all the fun while we're expected to sit and fiddle with our fingers or work on our embroidery?" Meg mumbled with a pout.

Marian struggled to hide the smile that threatened to show on her face. She remembered vocing that very same complaint hundreds of times growing up, but now she was an adult and, as such, was expected to set an example for her younger cousin.

"You mean you envy their thirst for blood be it at war or in the tournament field?"

"You know me better than that, Marian. Still, I don't understand that foolish rule that says ladies of rank aren't allowed to even watch a melee."

"As ladies of rank we enjoy certain privileges, but we also have a duty to behave as such, Meg."

Marian wondered if she wouldn't be struck by lightning, considering how hypocritical it was to ask that of Meg after the meeting with the knight in the garden the previous night.

She shouldn't have allowed their encounter to last so long. It had been madness to let herself be seduced by his good looks and his velvety baritone, just as it would be foolish to spend another sleepless night thinking what it'd feel like to lie in his arms and be kissed the way she imagined a man like him would kiss.

"Don't you sometimes get bored of being a lady?" sighed Meg."Even maidservants seem to lead more interesting lives than ours."

"It isn't all gold that glitters, Meg. I think neither of us would be equipped to survive the life of a servant."

"You mean no man has been born yet that can tame us or force us into subservience," she chuckled."Despite the lady façade, I know the heart of a rebel beats in your chest too, Marian."

Her younger cousin knew her well. Marian had always relished her independence and loved her father even more for everything he'd taught her. Only Robin and her family were aware of what an expert in weapons and horses she was and how fearsome a warrior she could be, despite her feminine condition and her delicate ladylike persona. She still rode to the heart of Sherwood Forest when she could escape her daily chores as chatelaine and trained on a weekly basis. It brought a pang to her chest to think of how things would change once she entered the shackles of marriage to Lord Winchester. Defying her husband and showing him who she really was behind her carefully-constructed façade would not only bring trouble on her but also on those she loved and intented to protect by marrying the hateful man in the first place.

Knowing these might be her last weeks of real freedom, Marian decided to test its boundaries as far as common sense and propriety allowed.

"I must supervise my latest instructions to get Lord Vasey's chamber ready have been carried out. Would you like to accompany me?"

"Boring," mumbled the younger cousin.

"Nobody would find fault in our lingering there for a little while. You know... the chamber's got a nice view of the field... We might see the first charge... before all that senseless bashing begins," smiled Marian conspiratorially.

"Oh, you're the best!" exclaimed the rosy-cheeked sixteen-year-old hugging her. "I promise I'll be on my best behaviour. I could even give you and Tuck a hand tending the wounded."

"Where has this sudden interest in being around the opposite sex sprung from? Wasn't you who used to say if you had your way men would disappear in a puff of smoke, and the world would be a happier place?"

"Oh, well, they're a necessary evil, I suppose. And some of them aren't that bad to look at. Even us ladies are allowed to feast our eyes provided we do it discreetly. There's no crime in that, is there? And it's not as if I'd give my heart away by looking from a distance; I have no intention of getting married. Thank you very much. Besides, how would it look if I were the first Lady of Knighton to enter the marriage institution?"

"Well, I'm not looking for a husband either. I've already got my hands full as it is," finished Marian, slamming shut the drawer she'd been rifling through to get some old linen that could be used for bandages.

No, she wasn't looking for a husband, but she was virtualy betrothed. And yet her treacherous body seemed not to accept the fact for even now it reacted to the sinfully passionate thoughts Sir Guy had roused in her. It was painful enough to have to marry a man she loathed; having to lie in a cold and potentially abusive bed suspecting now things might feel so different was unbearable.

* * *

"Why all the fuss, Marian? Who is this Lord Vasey that deserves so much pomp and circumstance?"

"His late brother, Lord Geoffrey, was Father's best friend. He died in the Holy Land not so long ago and left his title and lands to his younger sibling, Peter, the present Lord. Although we've never laid eyes on Lord Peter before, we owe it to his brother's memory and his station to give him a proper welcome," explained Marian, unlocking the door of the room she'd spent so many hours setting up.

"Oh, this is great!" Meg exclaimed, rushing to the loophole that overlooked the tournament field.

Marian joined her cousin and observed the two groups of mounted knights facing each other across the field. Her father, who would have chatted convivially with the participants in the past, sat to the side in his best attire, a forlorn figure that broke her already bleeding heart.

Her gaze was drawn like a magnet to the one man who wasn't donning a silver armour. Wearing black from head to toe, Sir Guy of Gisborne was seated on a magnificent destrier of the same colour.

Master and beast looked like an indivisible unit and were impressive in their eerie stillness. He stood alone and aloof, observing the field and his opponents from his saddle to mark out his prey with a glance that she imagined penetrating beneath his helmet.

Remembering the emotions a look from those striking blue-grey eyes had provoked in her the previous night, Marian unconsciously rubbed the knuckles on which she was still able to feel the imprint of his warm lips.

"There's Lord Winchester and Allan. Allan is going to participate in the squires' melee tomorrow." Meg tossed her strawberry hair. "He asked to wear one of my scarves, but I refused."

"Why?" asked Marian absently.

"Really, Marian, if I didn't know you better, I'd think you were moonstruck. He's chasing after every skirt in the shire, servants and _ladies _alike, that's why. Winchester's wearing your scarf, I suppose?"

"No... He isn't taking part this time. His man is. Taking part, I mean. Not wearing my scarf," she muttered, thanking the Lord for that temporary reprieve.

Looking once again at the black knight who occupied her thoughts almost permanently, she wondered what her answer would have been if he'd been the one to request to wear her scarf.

If only she were not restrained by duty...

She blushed ashamed of her fleeting though ungrateful thought. She loved her father... and her cousin. They were all she had left. Her sacrifice was a small price to pay.

She'd tell Meg to go ahead of her and take the extra bandages to Tuck. She'd make a stop at the chapel, pray for forgiveness and light a candle to the Virgin Mary, begging for her guidance and strength.


	4. Chapter 4

**SUMMARY:** Betrayed by his latest master and mocked by the cruel hand of destiny, Sir Guy of Gisborne returns to Nottingham twenty years after his banishment determined to reclaim the life which should have been his.

**A/N: **Set in an alternate Series 1 where Guy has never met Vasey before his arrival in Nottingham, this fic will explore what impact an earlier acquaintance with Marian might have had on Guy's life and ultimate fate.

**AUTHOR: **lexie aka lillianschild

**RATING:** PG-13/R (probably in later chapters)

**PAIRING:** Guy/Marian

**GENRE:** Romance

**DISCLAIMER:** Tiger Aspect Productions and the BBC are free to claim whatever they own of this piece, except Guy's thoughts and and my words, which are ours to keep. lol

**CHAPTER IV**

Mounted on his destrier, Guy scanned the men on the opposite side of the field and made a quick assessment of the contenders as he waited patiently for the charge to begin. Stormbringer, used to the battlefield as his master, remained quiet as well; only the occasional flicking of the animal's ears revealed its urge to see action again.

Then Gisborne trained his eyes on Sir Edward, waiting for the signal to begin. Most of the knights were young and eager and Guy had learnt from experience how easy it was to fall prey to them if one hesitated even a millisecond when the lord's arm was lowered.

The Sheriff, dressed impeccably though not ostentatiously, was sitting at the side of the field. However, just like the previous night, he seemed to be absent in every way but bodily.

Guy remembered his father and how much his parents had loved each other. Roger of Gisborne would have mourned the loss of Ghislaine just as deeply as Sir Edward was mourning his wife. Unlike the Lord of Knighton, though, fate had spared the head of the Gisborne family, and the reaper had taken both husband and wife during the fire, leaving their defenceless children to cry over them.

The memory was still painful, an open wound that hadn't healed, and the feeling of guilt haunted Guy even now. He knew better than to let old baggage and sad recollections unsettle him the day of the tournament when any distraction could mean not just defeat but many a time death. It was better to think pleasant thoughts; there had been so few of those lately... until Lady Marian.

Her graceful beauty and the passionate nature he'd spied hidden behind the mask she was being forced to wear had captured his heart in the hall. She'd brought his anaesthetised senses back to life, stirred emotions in him he'd believed long dead after years of hardship and loss, making every intimate encounter in his life pale when compared to the yearning brought about by the mere sight of her unbound hair or the brush of his lips against her knuckles.

Last night had been the realisation of a dream, a folly he wouldn't dare to repeat. No matter the warm and unexpected feelings she'd awoken in him, he should have never approached her, least of all touch her, aware as he had been of her unchaperoned state. He ought not to have lingered in her company for so long, beguiled by her magnetic aura.

It was foolish to delude himself; once she learnt about his past, whatever attraction she might have felt towards him last night would be crushed. He'd considered telling her he was no stranger to Nottingham, that he'd been born and raised here, that had it not been for the cruel hand of fate and Nottingham's complicity, he'd now be sitting at the Council of Nobles and free to woo her away from Winchester's clutches. Sharing his history and his old and strained relationship with Huntingdon might have earned her sympathy, but he still had too much self-respect to welcome anybody's compassion or pity. As things stood, nothing serious could ever happen between them. Therefore, there was no point in opening up and revealing his conflictive rapport both with the King and her late betrothed, not even when he knew himself to have been the unjustly injured party both as a child and as a grown-up.

Hopeless as his yearning was, his mind kept conjuring images of Lady Marian in his arms; her pure heart awoken to blossoming passion by his tender kisses and gentle caresses. These thoughts did nothing but fire his libido and his fidgeting in the saddle communicated his own anxiety to Stormbringer, which started to prance. Gripping the reins and tightening his knees he brought the animal under control, trying to stay focused on practical matters- winning the melée.

The earl of Knighton finally gave the signal and Guy dug his heels into Stormbringer. His horse broke into a gallop ahead of the other knights on his side, and in an instant all the destriers leapt forward crossing the space between both sides. Guy's sharp eye located Winchester's man and urged his destrier in that direction, aiming his lance straight at the man's shield, intent on dismounting him.

It all happened so quickly. One moment he was charging against Winchester's man and the next he lay sprawled on the ground in agony, his left arm feeling as if it'd been torn off at his shoulder. Stormbringer stood a few paces away seeming as confused as his master, sniffing at the lance broken in half at his feet.

The fighting continued around Guy as he struggled against the nausea of pain and commanded his body to move to safety away from the trampling hooves. He was an easy prey and it didn't take long for Winchester's knight to bring Gisborne back to his knees by aiming his sword at Guy's injured arm, which had been left unprotected when it could no longer hold the weight of the heavy shield.

"You're out of your league, Northerner," Winchester's man taunted him.

"I can still take you with one arm," glared Guy as he determinedly got back to his feet despite the excruciating pain.

"Get off the field while you still can, Gisborne. I wouldn't like to ruin your pretty body for the ladies. If you hurry up, you can catch the next stretcher for the vanquished on your way out of the field," replied the earl's man smugly, turning his destrier back to the melée.

Impotence and rage battled in Gisborne's chest and threatened to spill over. It was a feeling Guy was no stranger to, an emotion that many a time had pushed him to the edge and made him come face-to-face with the seed of darkness he knew he carried inside, a restrained violence that could destroy everything and everyone around him and doom him forever. It was a powerful force which had cost him dearly in the past, and he'd be a fool to risk it all by letting emotions rule him once again.

Swallowing the bitter pill of humiliation, he made a strategic retreat with his head held high, avoiding the Greyfriar and his assistants by walking in the opposite direction. There was no way on this earth he'd leave the field on a stretcher when he had two feet that could carry him to the tent where his injuries would be treated.

* * *

Lady Marian busied herself around the trestle table, arranging the medicines, bandages and basins that Tuck would need to see to his patients. She'd lost count of how long she'd spent on the task, aligning things which needn't be moved anymore and fussing about the tiniest detail; she simply had to do something or go crazy as the minutes went by and there was no news of Sir Guy.

"He'd have been brought here already if his injury were serious," Meg suggested, sensing Marian's disquiet.

She wanted to be as positive as her sixteen-year-old cousin, but she'd seen the heavy collision and his tumble from the destrier; it hadn't appeared like a minor injury to her when they'd both witnessed the clash from their vantage point in the tower. She'd been too overcome by anxiety to stay behind and wait to see Sir Guy stir; she'd rushed downstairs followed closely by Meg, praying for him to be alive.

"I told you he wasn't dead!" shouted the younger cousin with a large smile the minute the flap at the entrance to the tent moved to reveal Sir Guy of Gisborne in his traditional black garb.

"I'm a hard nut to crack," he replied with a lopsided grin.

"Your arm!" exclaimed Lady Marian, noticing the way he was holding his left arm against his body.

"Is it broken?" frowned Meg.

"I think the problem's my shoulder," he said quietly when Marian took a step forward in his direction.

"I'll go and fetch Tuck," offered Meg, hurrying out of the tent.

Marian made a move to stop her, but it was already too late. She was once again alone with the first man who'd ever robbed her of sleep with a brush of his lips against her knuckles and made her body burn either with one look or his mere proximity. Common sense and the rules of propriety told her she should step out of the tent and wait for Tuck to arrive, and yet she remained rooted to the spot.

"Is this man Tuck a black Greyfriar by any chance?"

"Yes, he's our physician. Have you met him?"

"He was hanging around the field with two assistants and a stretcher," he explained with a grimace.

"You should have waited for them."

"I'm sure there are others more seriously hurt than I. I'm not an invalid."

"I didn't suggest you were but still... "

"My injury can wait. I'm not bleeding to death," he said gruffly. "Forgive me... my lady."

"It's all right. It's the pain speaking," she smiled, trying to cover up how awkward she felt standing so close to him.

Marian told herself she should get over it and be as professional as the situation allowed. She was there to nurse the injured and Sir Guy was just that, a patient in need of medical attention.

"Have you tried moving your left arm away from your body?"

"No."

"Could you do it now? Gently," she suggested, wondering if he was able to hear the drumming of her heart now that they were a mere armful away.

He made the attempt but blanched, overcome by a bout of agonizing pain.

"Don't strain it. I'd better examine it more closely. Would you mind disrobing?"she stopped him, hoping the warmth she was feeling all over wasn't showing in her cheeks.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to do it on my own," he replied after a slight pause, an indefinable emotion flaring in his breathtaking blue-grey eyes, which found an echo in her."I'll wait for the Friar, my lady."

"Since Meg hasn't come back yet I have a feeling Tuck has got his hands full at the moment. You're clearly in pain; I can assist you if you don't mind."

"I can wait," he insisted, gritting his teeth.

"Are you always this stubborn? You look as if you're about to faint," she admonished him. "Let me have a look now," she added with a firm voice, which belied the trembling in her fingers as she unbuckled his sword belt.

Even through the layers of clothing she could tell the strength of his thighs after years on horseback as well as the flat belly and shapely muscles resulting from heavy training and warfare. It took an incredible measure of willpower to distance herself from the overwhelming masculinity in front of her eyes.

"I owe you an apology. I think I was rather presumptuous last night and didn't behave in the way of a gentleman."

"There was no harm done."

"Still..."

"I accept your apology, Sir Guy," she cut him off, keeping focused on the task at hand to avoid meeting his piercing eyes. "Now I need to take your surcoat and gambeson... and I'm afraid you're a bit too tall."

His response was to kneel down in front of her.

"Tell me if I'm hurting you," she said quietly, easing the items of clothing over his arms and shoulders one by one and trying to touch him as little as possible.

She'd been so naïve believing she'd be able to see him as just another wounded knight to nurse. Her determination came tumbling down the moment she removed his gambeson and his upper body was revealed in all its glory. As worrying as the sight of his swollen and purplish left shoulder was, she welcomed it since it helped shift her focus of attention away from Gisbone's naked chest and shapely biceps.

Guy clenched his teeth and bit back a French expletive, overcome by pain and the bittersweet experience of having Lady Marian touch his bare skin for the first time. Although the fair maid wasn't the only woman who'd ever seen him in a state of undress, none had ever affected him this much. In fact, the obvious arousing effect the sight of his nakedness had had on her made his resolution to curve his lust and remember the unconquerable social gap between them even harder.

"I can't feel any broken bones," she said after a while. "Do you think you can close your hand in a fist?" she added, taking a step back.

Still feeling the soothing ghost of her touch on his skin, Guy fought the bout of pain which seized him every time he tried to move and followed her request.

"Well, it seems you were right. Nothing's broken. The bone's been pulled from the socket in your shoulder. We need to put it back," she explained, walking towards the trestle table to look for a potion to numb the pain. "Drink this."

"Poppies?" he asked, smelling the preparation.

"Yes, it's going to make my work easier."

"You know how to do this?"

"You sound surprised. Unlike many representatives of the fair sex, I'm not squeamish. I'm hopeless at embroidery, so I pestered Tuck until he taught me a few things that could come in handy," she smiled, taking the empty goblet from his hand.

"I knew the moment I saw you, you were anything but the usual damsel in distress. OK. I trust you. Do it."

"Let's wait a little bit for the potion to work."

"No, I'll be fine."

"Sir Guy..."

"My lady," he cut her off resolutely.

"Men," grumbled Marian, taking hold of his left arm and pulling.

Exhaling the breath he'd been holding, he unclenched his teeth and opened his mesmerising blue-grey eyes to meet Marian's concerned gaze.

"Thank you, my lady," he said quietly, staring into her deep blue orbs with an open yearning that went beyond the physical before clouding his sudden show of vulnerability by lowering his sooty eyelashes and reaching out for his clothes.

"Sir Guy..." she began, unsure of what to say next, only to be interrupted by Meg and Tuck's return.

Her emotions being in a turmoil, Marian thanked the Virgin for their timely arrival.


	5. Chapter 5

**SUMMARY:** Betrayed by his latest master and mocked by the cruel hand of destiny, Sir Guy of Gisborne returns to Nottingham twenty years after his banishment determined to reclaim the life which should have been his.

**A/N: **Set in an alternate Series 1 where Guy has never met Vasey before his arrival in Nottingham, this fic will explore what impact an earlier acquaintance with Marian might have had on Guy's life and ultimate fate.

**AUTHOR: **lexie aka lillianschild

**RATING:** PG-13/R (probably in later chapters)

**PAIRING:** Guy/Marian

**GENRE:** Romance

**DISCLAIMER:** Tiger Aspect Productions and the BBC are free to claim whatever they own of this piece, except Guy's thoughts and and my words, which are ours to keep. lol

**A/N 2**: Sorry for the long delay in updating but I was bed-ridden for a fortnight and had very little energy during my recovery to pick up things where I'd left them.

**Chapter V**

"I see you're one of those who'd rather suffer stoically than accept he's a mere mortal," snapped Friar Tuck, approaching Sir Guy.

"I didn't think my injury was so grave as to demand being carried in a stretcher," replied the knight as the monk examined his shoulder and checked his grip.

Lady Marian didn't believe for a moment that had been the real reason. Gisborne was just too proud a man to leave the field any other way but on his feet.

"I mixed him a draft to ease the pain before putting the shoulder back," she told Tuck, focusing on the friar's large crucifix to keep her eyes from straying to the knight's half-naked body.

"You've done a great job, My Lady," smiled the black man. "Has your shoulder ever popped before?"

"Once," replied Sir Guy, feeling somewhat nauseous.

"You know what should be done then. We must wrap it in order to immobilise it for a few days. If you hastened the treatment, you'd end up either weakening the joint or wearing it altogether. You'd live in constant pain."

"I'm a warrior. I can't afford losing the use of one arm. I'll do as you say."

"Good, good. My Lady, would you mind giving me a hand with these?"

"Certainly," smiled Marian, taking the bandages from the religious man's hands.

"Please, lie back, Sir Guy," he instructed the queasy knight. "Let the potion work its magic while we prepare the wrappings. Lady Marian, here, use this salve on the bandages. It'll help reduce the swelling and keep the pain under control. You've become quite a legend in the tournament circuit, Sir Guy."

"Is that so?" murmured the patient with a smug smile.

"You've got a beautiful destrier."

"Have you had it long?" intervened Marian, who'd also admired his mount the night before while checking on her pregnant mare.

"Two years."

"I've only seen the like in the Holy Land. Arabian war horses have a very distinct quality," added Tuck, spreading salve on another bandage.

"You've got a keen eye. Stormbringer was a present from a caliph," explained Guy with a grimace as he tried to find a more comfortable position on the bed.

"An infidel?" asked Meg overcome by curiosity.

"It's funny that such a term could be used to refer both to Christians and Muslims, isn't it? Jehovah, God, Allah... Aren't they different names to worship the same Supreme Being who created us all?" replied Tuck soberly.

"A man of the 't you afraid of being excommunicated or charged with treason for voicing your opinions?"

"No more than a knight who's pledged to defend the were on crusade with King Richard, weren't you, Sir Guy?"

"Yes."

Marian observed the exchange with renewed interest and noticed the shadow that crossed Gisborne's visage before he covered his face with his right arm.

Most men of arms admired the Lionheart, Robin had always sung his praises- he'd even left her to follow his King to the end of the world- so she found it puzzling that a man who'd served by Richard's side did not.

"Brother, this man is in need of immediate attention," blurted out a footman, walking into the tent accompanying a gravely injured knight.

"My lady, would you mind seeing to the wrapping?"

"No, of course not. Go and tend to the young man. He seems to be in a lot of pain."

"Shall I give you a hand. Marian?" offered Meg, struggling to keep her queasy stomach under control by focusing on something other than the patient Tuck was helping a few feet away.

"No, thanks, Meg. I can manage. Why don't you go and join Father? I'll be with you as soon as I'm done here."

The potion she had administered to Sir Guy was a strong one and it wasn't unusual for a patient in his circumstances to reveal the most inconvenient of things when drugged. In addition, Meg had always been a very observant girl and Marian knew that it'd be very hard not to blush or tremble as she had the previous night when her skin grazed his. She could still remember the feelings that touching him invoked.

Left alone with Sir Guy, Friar Tuck and his moaning patient, Marian approached the knight and aided him to sit up despite his initial reticence to accept any help.

Struggling to focus on the task at hand and deal with her patient in as impersonal a way as she could, she used the salved bandages to wrap his shoulder and chest in order to keep his left arm as immobile as possible.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly when he suddenly sucked in his breath.

"I'm not complaining. It isn't every day that my wounds are tended by a beautiful woman," he slurred, his northern accent becoming more pronounced.

Marian tried to fight the flame that leapt to life when he smiled and caressed her cheek with warm and gentle fingers. Entranced, she bent closer to his lips as if pulled by some preternatural force.

"You should lie down and rest," she urged him in a shaky voice she hardly recognised as her own.

"I should have kissed you last night," he whispered, tracing her lips with his thumb.

"Sir Guy..." she panted, nervously glancing at Tuck over the knight's shoulder to make sure the monk was still busy with his other patient.

"Your skin's so soft, just at I imagined it'd feel like when I saw you walk into the hall to capture my heart."

His deep, chocolatey voice rendered huskier by the numbing effect of the potion, enveloped her in a sensual cocoon from which she didn't want to wake up. The mysterious knight had awoken needs and feelings in Marian she hadn't known resided in her and, although common sense and duty demanded she nip them in the bud, the allure to taste passion just once before shackling her life to a man she didn't love was fast becoming too strong to resist.

"I always thought him a knave..." he mumbled

"Shh...," she hushed him, darting a glance at Friar Tuck,"lie down."

"To barter the promise of a lifetime waking up next to a fair lady such as you... for the ephemeral dream of glory... What a... fool!"

The slurred words touched Marian and also puzzled her. "Sir Guy?"

"Mm?" he replied weakly, his mesmerising blue-grey eyes partially hidden by sooty eyelashes as he studied her lovely mouth with hazy concentration.

"Who... who's a fool?" she asked with a thoughtful frown, wondering if her former betrothed and Gisborne had crossed paths. It'd be the only explanation possible... unless he'd heard the servants gossiping about their broken engagement.

"What?"

"Nothing. Save your strength. Tuck's almost finished with the other patient," she replied with a soothing smile. He obviously had no control over what came out of his mouth and urging him to keep talking was a double-edged weapon.

"My Lady... would you promise me something?" he asked all of a sudden, taking her hand in his warm grasp.

"What is it?" she whispered, bending down to hear his fainting voice.

"He's no gentleman... Right to despise him... Tell him I know he had my equipment fixed... Tell him he's going to pay," he said in a raspy voice before closing his eyes and succumbing to sleep.

There was no need for him to make names. There was one man she despised with all her heart and last night she had let her mask slip for an unguarded moment, time enough for the observant knight to read her innermost thoughts when their eyes met and held across the crowded room for a brief but meaningful spell.

She loathed Winchester. He disgusted her and Gisborne was privy to her secret. And now the handsome knight was clearly accusing the earl of foul play- in other words, he was charging a very powerful man... her future husband... with attempted murder.

Had Winchester really tried to kill Sir Guy? She knew her late mother's old suitor was capable of acting out of malice and using every means at his disposal to get what he wanted. But why Gisborne? What threat did the younger man pose to him? Unless... Was it possible he considered Sir Guy a rival for her affections? No, it couldn't be. And yet... what if someone had witnessed their meeting in the garden? She hadn't noticed anyone. Maybe somebody had watched them from the shadows, misconstrued the innocent encounter and then reported it to Winchester. Was a short conversation and a featherlike kiss on her knuckles reason enough to try to kill a man? Or was there another reason, one that had nothing to do with her and Winchester's plans to bind her to him for life?

"Ah, here you are!" exclaimed Lord Winchester, marching into the tent and approaching Marian with a proprietary look in his reptilian eyes. "He's not dead, is he?" he added, glancing over at Gisborne.

Marian put on her best fake smile and struggled to keep her rebellious tongue in check. Although she was more than inclined to believe Sir Guy, accusing the earl without concrete proof would only earn the knight the enmity of a merciless man with close connections with Prince John, who was just as ruthlessly devious.

"No, he's resting. He was seriously wounded, though. He won't be able to travel for a couple of weeks at least."

Winchester frowned. "Friar Tuck seems to have everything under control here. Come. Let's take a walk."

* * *

"You've inherited your father's generous heart, Lady Marian. Unfortunately, this world is full of unscrupulous people and one can never be too careful when offering hospitality to complete strangers; they may end up stabbing you in the back. That Northerner, for example. It'd be better for him to be on his way."

Marian felt suddenly tense. Would this be the moment when he revealed he knew about her tête-à-tête with Gisborne?

"Why's that?"

"The man's no true knight. He's no gentleman. King Richard himself cast him out of his retinue. That should be proof of he's not being honourable enough to sleep under your roof."

"On what grounds was he cast out?"

"He had a quarrel with the Lionheart. Knowing Our Majesty's reputation, Gisborne should count himself lucky to still have his head attached to the rest of his body."

"Where did you learn this? There was nothing amiss when his licence was read before the tournament. Maybe the decision to leave the king's side was Sir Guy's."

"Do you doubt me?" frowned Winchester.

"No, of course not," she tried to placate him with a fake smile."But, considering Gisborne's reputation in the field and the youth of most of the participants, I wouldn't be surprised if some of the most envious contenders decided to cast aspersions on him to get an edge. In any case, I would hate to see my father judged as an ungracious host by refusing to allow a wounded knight to stay over until he's mended. "

"Sometimes your intelligence makes me forget how little you know about the ways of the world, Marian," he replied with a lustful look in his eyes. "It isn't just the Sheriff's good name I'm worried about..."

Marian cringed inwardly when he brushed her cheek and she wished she could tell him in his face exactly how repulsive she found his touch and how little she trusted him. However, she had to think of Meg and her father's security.

"Please, My Lord, forgive me if my words were taken as an insult. I assure you it's never been my intention to anger you."

"How could I ever be angry with a beautiful lady such as you?" he murmured hungrily into her ear, tugging her closer to him.

"My Lord..." she said with a slight tremor in her voice as she splayed her hands on Winchester's chest to try to extricate herself from his embrace,"we shouldn't be so indiscreet."

"Are you afraid someone might see us?_ I _find the idea quite exciting, " he chuckled, lowering his head intent on kissing her only to meet her cheek. "You're trying my patience, My Lady," he glared at her."I've given you sufficient time to get used to the idea of becoming Lady Winchester. Or do you simply enjoy making me mad with jealousy?"

Marian experienced a sudden oppression in her chest. Were his words the confirmation she'd been dreading- that her meeting with Sir Guy had been witnessed? If so, Winchester would not only be capable of making she and her blood suffer; there were Sir Guy and anybody close to him.

Making use of her best acting tools, Marian took a step forward and- wounding her arms around the earl's neck- fluttered her eyelashes and purred, "A lady needs to make sure she's duly appreciated."

"You're full of surprises, Marian," he replied, tightening his arms around her in a possessive hold that reflected the carnal craving in his eyes.

She'd known the time would come when she would no longer be able to keep Winchester waiting. Sir Edward was getting weaker each passing day and soon the earl might approach Prince John to inform him that her father was no longer fit to be a Sheriff and that someone—some man—must be put in charge of Knighton since its lord was too frail to look after the property and the villagers. And who better than Lord Winchester himself to fill in the role?

There was only one way to keep close watch on her late mother's old suitor and aid those who couldn't help themselves. For a moment she wished herself miles away at Kirklee's Abbey; had she taken the veil when Robin left for the Holy Land she wouldn't have been standing here cornered by an asp. And yet, her being a wife of Christ probably wouldn't have stopped the earl from scheming to have Sir Edward removed and seize all his property and also his position as the Sheriff of Nottingham.

"I have an answer to your request of marriage, My Lord."

"And what is your answer?"

"I'll be honoured to be your wife."


	6. Chapter 6

**SUMMARY:** Betrayed by his latest master and mocked by the cruel hand of destiny, Sir Guy of Gisborne returns to Nottingham twenty years after his banishment determined to reclaim the life which should have been his.

**A/N: **Set in an alternate Series 1 where Guy has never met Vasey before his arrival in Nottingham, this fic will explore what impact an earlier acquaintance with Marian might have had on Guy's life and ultimate fate.

**AUTHOR: **lexie aka lillianschild

**RATING:** PG-13/R (probably in later chapters)

**PAIRING:** Guy/Marian

**GENRE:** Romance

**DISCLAIMER:** Tiger Aspect Productions and the BBC are free to claim whatever they own of this piece, except Guy's thoughts and and my words, which are ours to keep. lol

**CHAPTER VI**

_You must be strong. Close your eyes and think yourself elsewhere. Think of Sherwood and riding carefree in the woods, where once upon a time your cheeks blushed and your heartbeat quickened with a couple of chaste kisses robbed by the boy who you dreamt would be your husband one day._

How different were these plundering lips, which looked only to gratify their owner, from the warm and electrifying brush of another pair which last night sought to worship rather than steal or dominate.

Marian hated being out of her depth and found herself praying Winchester couldn't see through her inexperience to discover the feelings of revulsion and impotence that were barely contained. As little patience as she had with courtly games, she preferred them to this forceful submission which did nothing but rob her of her sense of dignity and dreams of independence.

"_Just breathe deeply and don't do anything that might make him doubt your sincerity_," she told herself the moment she felt one of his hands leave her waist and stray to trace curves which had remained uncharted territory for twenty-one years.

"My Lord, I've appreciated your patience so far. Please, don't spoil things by trying to seize now what I pledged to gift you with on our wedding night!" she cried, grabbing his roving hand.

"Don't be coy, Marian. I've waited long enough for my reward," he glared, tightening his hold on her.

"You only have to name the day you'd have me for your wife and it'll be yours for the taking," she smiled, putting on an appearance of happiness for the sake of her family's safety.

"I wish it could be today, but it'd be too short a notice for those who have to travel far to share in our joy on such an important day," he replied visibly appeased.

"Provided you allow me a fortnight to make all the preparations necessary to entertain our guests as befits their station and yours, I'll leave that decision in your hands," she replied, trying not to think that a fortnight was how long it'd take Sir Guy to be healed enough to leave.

"I trust your well-honed abilities as a hostess, my lady. I'll give you a list of my guests so that you can start issuing the invitations. As soon as their replies come in, I'll make the formal announcement."

The fact that she could influence her husband-to-be wasn't enough to lift her spirit. This bleak despair she found herself in was a burden to be borne alone; both Sir Edward and Meg should believe her as content with her choice as Lord Winchester.

"I can't wait to make you mine," he murmured, pulling her to him and kissing her once again without any trace of tenderness or even lust. She was just someone else to dominate.

"I hope I'll be everything you wish for, my lord," she replied, refusing to let him believe she could be intimidated or frightened by him.

"I've no doubt you will," he smiled slowly."I've entertained you long enough. Tuck seems to have his hands full. Let not be said that Lord Winchester is not an understanding master or that he stands in the way of his lady's generous heart. I'll see you again at dinner."

"I'll see you then, my lord," she answered, masking her relief before hurrying back to the tent where Sir Guy lay unconscious.

* * *

"I don't trust him," Sir Jasper muttered, looking at the short bearded man standing close to the window.

Winchester glanced at Lord Vasey and then smiled at Sir Jasper. "Because he's a northerner?"

"They're all savages."

"Savages are fearsome warriors," Lord Vasey said, taking a gulp from his goblet. "And this one... Well, he has very personal reasons for hating Richard. Loyal servants make the worst enemies when they're betrayed by their masters."

"You haven't told us yet what brought about this estrangement," Winchester cut in.

"What matters is that Sir Guy's seen and experienced first-hand that the Lionheart isn't the hero or the model of virtue all those ballads have painted," explained Vasey.

"I don't see what difference that could make," Winchester pointed out. "Richard still has plenty of supporters to fight these Crusades."

"He's spent more time in his Norman domains than here whereas Prince John has rarely left," Sir Jasper added. "Richard hasn't even learnt the language of his people."

"Prince John has stayed in England only because he's been trying to wrest it from Richard's rule," Vasey replied.

"John would make a better ruler," Sir Jasper declared.

"Well, that doesn't factor in our plan. What's important is that he's the easiest to intimidate of the two brothers."

"I still don't understand what we need Gisborne for," Sir Jasper mumbled. "And, correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think you trust him either, not with the way he looked at Lady Marian," he added, addressing Lord Winchester.

"Let him look," replied the earl coolly."This afternoon she accepted my hand in marriage and we'll wed before the summer's over,"

"So what was that about Gisborne's_ accident_ in the field? I was under the impression you meant it as a warning," asked Jasper doubtfully.

"It _was _an accident. His lance shattered."

"La di da di da! Do we care about a lovers' tiff and an inconsequential leper when the stakes are so high? A clue: No!" exclaimed Vasey impatient. "I don't care if you don't like him or if you feel threatened by his good looks, we need him on our side. Someone has to get his hands dirty in this business or do you think yourself equipped for the killing mission?"

Sir Jasper paled. "Are you planning to assassinate King Richard?"

"What did you think we were discussing? A picnic?" Vasey snapped.

"I... I... assumed..."

"Are you with us... or not?" Vasey interrupted him in a menacing tone which made Winchester's blood run cold. Lord Peter Vasey was the most ruthless person Winchester had ever met and would have no qualms about tossing Jasper off the battlements if he found no more use for him.

"If it can be done without repercussions, you can definitely count me in."

"We wouldn't be setting this plan in motion if we weren't sure of its successs. The Black Knights have strengthened their ranks with support from the nobilty in Wales and Ireland. The Scots are next. You don't need to worry about Gisborne. I won't ask either of you to befriend him to help the cause. You can leave him to me," grinned Vasey. "For the time being, though, what we've discussed goes no further than this room. Are we clear?"

Winchester and Jasper both nodded.

"Good. Leave us, Sir Jasper. There's a matter I have to discuss with Lord Winchester in private."

When Sir Jasper had closed the heavy door behind him, Winchester eyed Vasey. "Do you think he's going to keep his mouth shut?"

"For some reason Prince John likes him and Jasper knows what he risks if he talks too much."

"Where do you know Gisborne from?"

"My late brother saw him fight in the Holy Land. He's got a leashed darkness that could work to our advantage with the right tutoring and incentive. I would be very upset if anything were to happen to him. I don't want any foolish misstep to ruin our plans."

Winchester nodded, knowing his climb to power could be hastened or thwarted by Vasey.

"So... the virtuous Lady Marian. Have you bedded her yet?"

"No, not yet."

"I'm surprised. I would have never expected you to be so patient. Still... your betrothal is an important step. The faster you wed her and consummate your marriage the better. An allegiance with Lord Edward will help us get allies from those quarters that are still hesitant. We must move soon. Now... if you'll excuse me, it's been a long journey. I bid you goodnight."

Left alone in the room Winchester poured himself another goblet. One day soon, Nottingham would be his. He would have riches and power beyond measure and the woman he'd desired for so long next to him.

And Richard, the man who'd dared slight him by denying him a place in his retinue, would be finally dead.


End file.
